


transition

by lauraxtennant



Series: Tentoo/Rose Collection [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Pete's World, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been three weeks, and there still hadn’t been a repeat of what happened on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	transition

It had been three weeks, and there still hadn’t been a repeat of what happened on the beach.

The Doctor hadn’t said it again, so neither had she. He kept his distance, as far as their mouths were concerned, and therefore so had she. They moved out of each other’s way in the flat, as though they hadn’t spend two years on the TARDIS invading one another’s personal space every day. The centre of the sofa was no man’s land, with both of them bunched up in opposite corners while they watched telly, or talked, or planned where they would go once the Doctor’s passport arrived in the post.

Rose wasn’t worried, really, about the space between them; it was infinitely better than being a whole universe away from him. And he still laughed with her and made stupid jokes, and looked at her the way he’d always looked at her. They just needed to get used to each other again, properly, and used to the idea of this new life they had in front of them, before they could get that comfortable ease with which they’d casually touched and held hands back into their lives.

Rationally, she knew this was just a transition period, that they would work things out eventually. And she needed this time, too - it wasn’t just the Doctor who had to deal with idea of being stuck here, in Pete’s World, for good.

But she couldn’t help but wish he’d close the gap between them and do what he’d always done; comforted her not with words, but with his arms around her, holding her tight against him.

That first night, in the B&B in Norway, he had held her. She’d sneaked into his room and given him a helpless look and he’d understood immediately. He jumped up from the bed, crossed the room in a few quick strides, and caught her up in his arms, squeezing her into a hug not unlike the one they had shared on the TARDIS, when they had first been reunited. 

She wanted that type of hug again from him, and more.

It was a Sunday night when things changed. They’d just got back from Jackie and Pete’s, and were settling on the sofa to watch some telly before bed. Rose was deliberately wearing her skimpiest pyjamas; not to attract his eye, necessarily, but purely so that she could scoot closer to him on the sofa under the believable pretense of being chilly.

(It went without saying that the slow sweep of the Doctor’s gaze as she entered the living room, and the way in which said gaze lingered on her bare thighs as she sat down next to him, was very gratifying indeed. Plan or not.)

As the opening credits of the new sci-fi show they’d recently got into rolled on the screen, Rose shifted her bum on the seat, shuffling nearer to him. His arm came up automatically as she entered his personal space, and he comfortably settled it around her shoulders as though this were a natural, frequent occurrence. 

(And it had been, on the TARDIS; all those nights snuggled up on the sofa reading and watching films, giggling and tickling and - it had been so easy, back then, in its innocence.)

“This music gives me the shivers,” the Doctor said, shuddering for effect, “I’ve met dozens of composers over the years, Rose Tyler, and let me tell you, this fella is a genius.”

He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles on the coffee table. The length of them, and the inexplicable tightness at the crotch of those loose pyjama bottoms of his, distracted her enough that she barely got out a, “Mm, yeah,” in response. In recompense, she settled her head at his shoulder, hoping the affection made up for her limited conversational ability. 

(Was he wearing pants under those, was that why there was a noticeable outline around his…bulge? Because he had his boxer briefs on, too? Did he sleep with them on? Or was he completely naked under there, just waiting to - )

Tentatively, because her arm was wedged between them, Rose moved it so that her hand had nowhere to rest but his thigh. His muscles didn’t stiffen in surprise or discomfort, so she left it there, assuming he saw nothing out of the ordinary with it.

(She was almost affronted. Why didn’t he think this was out of the ordinary? Did he not realise they’d barely been touching, these last few weeks? Wasn’t it occupying his every thought like it was hers?)

Rose stroked her thumb slowly, and finally got some sort of reaction from him; a small intake of breath. She bit into her bottom lip, controlling a grin. 

Her eyes were on the screen now, but she wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, because the Doctor was moving his arm. She held her breath, but he didn’t remove it completely from her; just propped his elbow on the back of the sofa behind her neck so that his hand could play with her hair. Exhaling slowly in relief, Rose waited patiently for a few moments. Soon, his fingers grew bolder, as she’d hoped, and he was stroking down her neck and along to her shoulder. She shivered.

“You know, for someone who starts putting the heating on in November, you do seem to wear some impractical nightclothes in the dead of winter, Rose.”

There was a smirk in his voice, and she rolled her eyes. “I get hot in bed, though. Got a thick duvet.”

“We’re not in bed at the moment,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well.” She squeezed his thigh, feeling a bit braver. “Maybe I’m after a cuddle to warm me up.”

His fingers slipped back into her hair and he turned her head gently to face him. He opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it again, hesitating; his eyes darting between hers.

Rose licked her lip nervously. “What?”

“I want - ” He paused, then cleared his throat. “I’d like things to be how they were before. Between us.” His gaze held hers intently, and a lump came to her throat as she worried that she knew what he was trying to say.

“We were really…close,” she said carefully. She lifted her hand from his thigh, and turned towards him. “It was easy, before, wasn’t it? It felt so natural.”

“Yes,” he nodded, and looked relieved. “And I think we can be just like that, now, but…” He pulled a face, looking awkward again. “I just want to make sure that we’re…”

“Ready?”

“Mmm.”

“Well, I am,” Rose said, shrugging a shoulder. “And I miss you, miss hugging you for no reason and sitting close together and - and everything like that. What about you?”

“I miss that too.”

“But are you ready for us to go back to that?”

“Yes.”

The anxiety in Rose’s stomach tightened, suspecting she knew the answer to her question. “Then what’s the matter?” 

The Doctor blew out a long breath and glanced away from her, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s just. Er.”

Placing a hand on his chest, feeling how his heart was beating wildly with nerves, too, Rose smiled sadly. “You’re worried I’ll take it the wrong way, aren’t you?” she said, voicing her fears.

His eyebrows drew together and he looked back at her. “What? Oh. I don’t know. I loved what we had before,” he explained. “I was so happy, you made me so happy, and we - our friendship - ” he floundered, looking helpless.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, swallowing hard. “We can get that back. I loved it too.”

“But there’s all this - this weight, now, behind every move we - ” he continued, running a hand through his hair, “- it’s, it’s - we never - before, we didn’t - and believe me, I wanted, but it was too - and then I lost you anyway and then I got you back and then we kissed, and…” he trailed off again.

Rose frowned as she tried to follow what he was saying. “So, wait, are you saying you want things to be exactly as they were before, or that you want it to be the same but…more, too?”

The Doctor’s face cleared, and he smiled. “Yes. That. I knew you’d get it.”

“The first thing, or the second?” Rose checked, her heart in her throat.

“The second.” He nodded quickly. “Definitely the second.”

Her lips curved into a proper smile. “So, like…”

“So, like,” he teased, reaching for her hand. “You’re my best friend and I want to hold your hand and hug you and travel the world with you. But, I’m also madly in love with you, so there are - ” He tilted his head in consideration, “ - other things that I thought, perhaps, we could…do.”

Rose trailed her free hand down his chest slowly. “Things like kissing?” she suggested, tongue poking between her teeth as she smiled.

The Doctor nodded.

“Things like, going to bed together?” she asked next, and her hand journeyed south towards his waistband.

He gulped. “Indeed.”

“Things like,” she started, and he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Then, he stood up, pulling her up with him, and kissed her again as he walked her backwards through the flat.

They continued their conversation in the bedroom. In thorough, unmistakable detail.


End file.
